


Frank's Game

by annyoin



Series: Murder Manual [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Saw (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annyoin/pseuds/annyoin
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Murder Manual [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026192
Kudos: 7





	1. Mad Grit

“You tried to kill me, and now you’re inviting me over like nothing happened? What the hell.”

“Not "tried". I did kill you.”

“That’s even worse. Jesus Christ.”

Distant metal clangs stab your ears, despite this plant feeling so... small. What distance is there? You have no idea what it could be and frankly, you would rather keep it that way. But you’re here now, so you can’t exactly leave. 

This place always seemed so menacing in the trials and it still does. You’re in the worst room, too- the room of safety, as most people like to call it. Red and green lights give the room a threatening aura, not even mentioning the giant meat vat and the tables covered in various unorthodox weapons.

Which reminds you.

You quietly unsheathe your own weapon. A rusty old knife. Works better than the clean ones, at least, that’s what you think anyway. She seems so unaware. An easy target, with her rubber pig’s mask. Turned away from you, she looks just like a survivor- but as you attempt to strike, she grabs your arm mid-swing.

“You think nobody’s tried that before?”

Of course they have. Fuck. She actually does think of everything, doesn’t she. Her grip keeps tightening, threatening you to drop it, to which you comply. The metal clatters on the ground. She releases.

“That’s what I thought.”

“So why am I here, anyway? Haven’t you done enough?”

“Most people don’t get the lesson the first time, so I have to make a follow-up appointment. I don’t set up these trials for no reason.”

“What point.”

She grabs your sleeve and pulls it up. On your wrist, there’s that classic jigsaw piece scar. Motherfucker. She’s on theme. You’ve seen the movies, you know how it goes, but why would she do that if you’re alive now? Maybe you ought to think back to what killed you. And with that, the memories flood you.


	2. Iron Maiden

“HELLO FRANK.”

“ALL YOUR TIME IN THIS REALM HAS BEEN TIME WASTED, DON’T YOU THINK?”

He opens his eyes with a startle. The first thing he sees are his hands bound right in front of him, but he doesn’t get the luxury of observation before the tape continues.

“AFTER ALL, THE REASON YOU’RE HERE IS TO PUNISH.”

“BUT YOU HAVEN’T PUNISHED ANYBODY.”

“THEIR DEATHS ARE FOUND TO BE NOTHING MORE THAN ANNOYANCES FROM YOU. INEVITABILITIES. THEY DON’T STRUGGLE BECAUSE THEY KNOW THERE IS NOTHING THEY CAN DO AGAINST YOU.”

“YOU ARE A TYRANT.”

“YOU FOLLOW NO RULES.”

“SO I WANT TO PLAY A GAME.”

He knew there was something off about that pig. If people like Leatherface and Michael god-damn Myers were real here, of course some Saw character would be, too. This is going to end terribly. He listens closely to make sure he doesn’t fuck anything up.

“THE RULES ARE SIMPLE.” 

“ATTACHED TO YOUR NECK IS A DEVICE THAT WILL SLIT IT WITH DIRTY RAZORS IF IT’S NOT DEACTIVATED IN TIME.”

“TO DO THAT, YOU NEED TO GET THE KEY FROM WITHIN THE SKULLS OF ONE OF YOUR FELLOW LEGIONNAIRES.”

“BUT THE CATCH IS, THEY’RE STILL ALIVE, MERELY BOUND IN PLACE.”

“AND IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO FREE YOURSELF, THEY WILL ALSO BE KILLED SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY.”

“THEIR LIVES WILL BE INEVITABLY TAKEN FROM THEM JUST AS THE LIVES OF YOUR VICTIMS WERE.”

“YOU HAVE 1 HOUR.”

“LIVE OR DIE, FRANK.”

“MAKE YOUR CHOICE.”

His hands are released and the lights power on, stunning him for a minute. The timer starts as soon as he steps forward. Classic. He checks his side for his weapon- but it looks like he’s got Julie’s instead. A toothy blade with a warm, stiff handle. Better than your usual one, sure. But you’re not sure if that makes it even worse.

Ahead of him are, as described, his three accomplices. They’re blindfolded, limbs bound to their chairs by metallic devices, the same neck mechanisms as his own. He tries to fiddle with Julie’s before a voice comes out of one of the dark corners of the room.

“I WOULDN’T DO THAT IF I WERE YOU, FRANK.”

A maliciously fleshy sound effect is played for emphasis. Shit. Won’t be that simple, of course. Why did he even try that? That never works.

Julie’s head turns as she comes awake. She starts to freak out, until he holds her hands to keep them from shaking.

“It’s like Saw, Julie. You remember those movies, right?”

“Y- yeah,”

She nods, on the verge of sobbing. He tightens his grasp on her palm, knife in the other hand, and raises it above his head whilst biting his lip. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“What? What are you going to do?”

Without responding, he plunges the knife as deep into her head as he can with his scrawny little teenager arms. Granted, his time in the realm has made them a bit stronger, but they’re not enough to get all the way through the bone. She begins screaming, but he can’t just stop here. Hopefully she understands. At least the sound drowns out the incessant beeping of the timer on the wall behind them- but that’s not much consolation, is it. 

He forces the knife through with both hands, all the way around. It takes such a long time, even though he’s going as fast as he physically can. Fuck. Nothing there. She hasn’t stopped screeching this whole time, either. He wants it to stop. He can hardly take this already. God-damn it, stop it! Stop it! He grabs at her head and slams the exposed brain into the wall. Again. Again. Again and again and again and again. It’s stopped. It’s over. But he’s not done yet.

Next up, Joey. He’s already awake, for obvious reasons. He’s got his shoulders raised as much as he can, trying to block out the noise, probably. Jaws clenched, he tenses up after realizing that he’s next. 

“No. No, please, I haven’t done anything wrong. Please, I was just doing what you told me, honest! I swear!”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about me. This is my game.”

“God-damn it. I always get in trouble because of you. Of course, it's your fucking fault again. God dammit!”

“Let’s just get this over with. Please.”

Before he can say anything else, Frank does as he did with the last. The sawing motion has fourth degree burned itself into your muscle memory already, the jagged vibrations from the knife’s teeth feeling almost painful. God-damn it indeed, Joey. God-fucking damn it. 

He’s quieter than Julie was, but still, no key. He bled out while he was working on him. Thank fuck he didn’t have to finish him himself, he’s not sure he could handle that. 19 minutes and 43 seconds. 1277 beeps. Only one head left to pop. This has to be it. 

Susie passed out again before you reached her. In a sick way he was hoping she was already dead, but this whole trial is sick. This whole realm is sick. He’s sick. But sick isn’t going to get him out of here. He digs into this final scalp, breathing heavy as he goes faster and faster. Picking up speed. He has to get this one done quicker than the others, or else he won’t have time to free himself. Maybe he doesn’t deserve to be freed anymore. But he’s not going to think about that right now. He’s not going to think about anything right now. Susie sobs violently, but it hardly bothers him anymore. He’s not going to let it bother him. 

Crack. 1 minute left on the clock as he opens the final body. But there’s nothing there. He digs around in the now cold brain-bowl, finding nothing at all. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Where is it? Where is it?? 

“THERE WAS NO KEY.”

What.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW?”

What?

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY FEEL WHEN YOU PUT SO LITTLE WORTH INTO THEIR DEATHS?”

“INTO THEIR PAIN,”

“INTO THEIR SUFFERING,”

“MAKES IT ALL WORTH NOTHING AT ALL, DOESN’T IT?”

He watches the Entity repair all the damage he’s done here. All the shit he’d done in the past hour. It’s all gone. Everyone’s patched up, alive again. They look so confused. He feels the same.

“AND WITH THAT SAID,”

The timer hits zero. Zero zero zero zero zero zero. 

“Game over.”

All of them scream in unison as their throats are pierced at once. Scream until the blades dig so deep they can’t make any noise, and even then, the blood that comes forth gurgles as they struggle to continue. It hurts so bad. So much more than anything he’d ever felt before. He grips into his forehead with bitten nails until they dig bleeding holes into his skin. Until he loses so much blood, he loses consciousness with everyone else. 

Before your death, a single thought graces you with its unwanted company.

“Death is not an escape.”

It sure fucking isn’t.


	3. Discordance

What the fuck. What the fuck. You want to yell, break something, hurt someone, absolutely anything to get this out of your system. Something to distract you from these thoughts. That damn game. But you know how the movies go. Never worked for any of them.

“I know that look.”

“Look? What look?”

“So you remember after all. Good job.”

You’re really, really not in the mood for this condescending bitchery. But it doesn’t matter what you’re in the mood for, you’re in her lair. Her pigpen. 

“So what the fuck do you want from me? You know, we haven’t been able to even sit in the same room together since. Is that what you wanted? To fuck up some kid’s relations?”

“I want you to learn.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that.”

“Your ability is aided by the Entity Itself, no? Whenever you’re not hunting the survivor, their wounds worsen. But you exploit what It means by hunting.”

“So? Why should I care that it made an oversight? All I’m supposed to do is kill people. All I’m good at.”

“That’s NOT what you’re supposed to do you fucking asshole,”

The sudden spike of anger caught you off guard. She clears her throat and continues.

“You’re supposed to mess with them. Supposed to keep them off of their objective and pressure them. Sacrifice is the main goal but it’s not the only one, and even then you’re not sacrificing them.”

“So you want me to tell it to not assist me anymore or what.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

That’s not the response you were hoping to get there. Dammit. She’s not going to leave you alone if you don’t do this. She continues,

“Rules aside, don’t you find it boring? I know why you enjoy being here and it sure isn’t about killing them. It’s about hurting them, correct?”

That you can’t deny. It’s been a long time since you’ve actually felt something during these trials. You really miss it. That feeling of letting go and just going apeshit. It feels so methodical now, like there’s nothing there. You’re starting to get where she’s coming from, believe it or not.

“So I’ll cut you a deal. You turn the Entity’s help off, and you start enjoying your trials again.”

“Alright, but one revision.”

She tilts her head.

“I get to work with you. Where I’m from, your life is part of a movie- and I’ve always loved them. I’m not on great terms with you personally but getting to work with you… you know. It’d be pretty rad.”

“...”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s just… hmm. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Catching her off guard? Score. Looks like she doesn’t think of everything after all.

“I’ll allow it. If you agree, though, no secrets. Nothing hidden. There’s no reason to keep it from me.”

“Likewise.”

“Therefore,”

She holds out her hand.

“Do you trust me? Give me your wrist.”

That’s the million dollar question right there. Do you trust her? After all of that?

“... I do.”

You place it in her palm gently. She picks up a scalpel from her orchestra of pain instruments, making you jump a little, but you did this to yourself. You said you trusted her, didn’t you? She carefully slices out another puzzle piece, connected to the first, and dabs the wound with a tissue. It stings. Bad. But something tells you she’s not trying to be antagonistic anymore.

“Welcome to Jigsaw.”

Something you never thought you’d hear.

“Welcome to the Legion.”

Followed by something you never thought you’d say.


End file.
